Of Alcohol and Admissions
by AllisonWonderland203
Summary: Because sometimes liquor can cause us to say things we wouldn't normally say. Things that should be said, but we sometimes don't know how to say. Post Journey's End. Tentoo x Rose. Oneshot.


**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

**A/N: Rated M for a reason. Just an obligatory warning.**

* * *

They stumble out of the cab together, Rose first and the Doctor right on her heels. The toes of his trainers hit the curb and he nearly topples over, his misappropriated body weight sending him on a crash course with the sidewalk. Rose moves quickly despite her wickedly high heels and sore arches, catching his arm and keeping him on his feet.

"Steady on!" she exclaims, letting him lean his weight against her for a moment while he gathers his balance.

"Sorry, sorry," he mumbles, straightening and smoothing out his jacket with a sharp tug at the bottom. It's not the tuxedo she'd hoped he's wear tonight (he's yet to wear one in this universe, still citing the last time he wore a tux in this universe the world nearly came to an end), but it's a black suit and smart all the same.

"It's all right," she replies, shutting the cab door with her hip. The cabbie drives off into the night. "How much did you actually have to drink tonight?"

"Not that much," he smiles, rocking back on his heels and wobbling a bit more than he should. He giggles. Eyeing him carefully, Rose steps up close to him, gripping his lapels to steady him, and takes a good look at his eyes. His pupils are blown wide and he has a bit of trouble meeting her gaze. He giggles again when he finally does. "Hello."

"Hello yourself," she laughs. "You're completely pissed, aren't you?"

"I am not!" he says indignantly, straightening his shoulders. "Buzzed, maybe. But drunk…? Nooo…"

"You are so!" Rose grins and pokes him in the chest. "I told you to take it easy..."

"Ow! Rose, I'm perfectly fine," he pouts.

"Are you now?" she challenges, raising an eyebrow.

"I'll prove it! See? Watch?" He hops down off the curb and starts walking the little white line that runs along the pavement. He makes it about six steps before he's stepping off the line. "Bugger," he curses. "Let me try again."

Rose crosses her arms, covering her smirk with her hand, and watches as he tries and fails to walk the line again and again and again, cursing when he can't seem to make his body cooperate. After several failed attempts, she decides it's time to intervene.

"Right then, sailor mouth. That's enough of that."

"The pavement is not cooperating, Rose," he says with the utmost seriousness. "It must be some sort of sentient paint."

She laughs again and pulls him back up on the sidewalk with her. "Yes, well. We'll have to investigate it in the morning, eh? Right now, though, we should get you inside."

"Inside…? Where…? Oh, this is our flat, Rose! Our building!"

"That it is," she asserts, slipping her arm around his waist and walking him towards the door. He settles his arm around her shoulders and walks with her. "Time to head in."

"And then what?" he asks, sounding like a child.

"Then I get you a glass of water," she says matter-of-factly.

"And then what?"

"And then I send you to bed."

"And then?"

"You sleep."

"Alone?" His voice inflects, turning his statement into a question.

"Alone," she asserts with a nod.

"Ohh," he sighs, his shoulders slumping as he sags against her a bit.

"Is that a problem?"

He shrugs. "I just thought we might have sex."

Rose stumbles, nearly sending both of them sprawling on the sharp stones of the sidewalk. Thankfully, he's aware enough to catch himself, tightening his grip on her shoulders to keep her from falling as well. "Wait… What?"

"I said I thought we might have sex tonight."

"W-What made you think that?" she presses, her voice a little unsteady.

"Well, we were flirting all night. Remember? At your mum's party? And I _have_ had a few drinks. And I love you and you love me and it just seems like the right thing to do."

"So you need to have a few drinks to get the courage to sleep with me?"

"No!" he exclaims, frowning. "No. I would sleep with you anytime. Drinks or no drinks."

She does her best not to laugh. "You would, would you?"

"Don't sound so surprised," he glances down at her, offended. "You think I don't want to have sex with you? You, Rose Tyler."

"It's not that I don't think you _want _to," she explains. Her next words are weighed before she speaks. "…I just don't understand why you _haven't _yet."

"I…" he stares at her, gob-smacked. "I was waiting."

"Waiting. For what?"

"For you. For the right time."

"And when is that right time?"

"I thought I'd know it when it happened."

"Ah. So… you're showing considerable restraint, is that it then? You _want_ to have sex?"

"Of course I do!"

She giggles a bit and, even though this is quite a comical conversation, feels a spark of heat rush through her at his words. Some part of him means them – honestly means them – and she wonders how much of that she can pull out of him. They reach the door to their flat and he leans lazily on the doorframe while she pulls her keys out of her purse.

"So then," she asks, half glancing at him. "Tell me more. About this having sex thing."

Even in the shadows, she can see his eyes darken and he straightens, coming to stand close to her as she turns towards the door, keys in hand.

"Oh, Rose Tyler, the things I want to do to you," he whispers in her ear, body pressing up against hers from behind.

She can feel the beginnings of his arousal pressing into her lower back and she can't help the shiver that races through her at the feel of him combined with the sound of those words, the promises they hold. She glances back at him over her shoulder. "What… What sort of things?"

"Filthy, awful things. Things I never could have said before. This human body, Rose… it feels things so much differently. I feel lust that I haven't felt in centuries."

"And this… lust," she presses, licking her lips. "It makes you want to…?"

"Makes me want to fuck you," he whispers, his breath hot on her ear, her cheek. His hands fall to her waist and trail down, settling on her hips.

"O-oh," she breathes, the air leaving her lungs a rush. He's never spoken so frankly before and hearing the words so plainly is more than a bit of a shock. A delicious shock, but a shock all the same. She starts realizing just how out of her depth she really is as he tightens his fingers on her hips, subtly pulling her against him as he continues.

"I want to fuck you so badly, Rose. I want to strip you naked and throw you on the bed and fuck you until you scream my name."

"Yeah?" She presses back against him and feels his immediate response in the stiffening of his body. A perverse sense of pride blooms low in her stomach when she hears his breath hitch. "What… what else?"

"I want to touch you," he says and she gasps as his fingers shift to her thigh, skimming up under the hem of her dress and traveling ever higher. Her legs shift the tiniest bit apart to grant him the access he seeks as his fingers find her knickers. "I want to kiss every inch of you, from your hair to your toes to everything in between. I want to spread your legs and put my mouth between your legs. I want to taste you and make you come so hard."

"N-never wanted that before," she challenges, her voice gone shaky with want as he touches her intimately for the first time, slipping past the skimpy fabric of her lacy underwear. She sucks in a strangled breath as her knees go weak, but he is right there, steadying her with a hand at her waist even as she grasps their doorframe hard enough to make her knuckles turn white.

"How do you know I never wanted those things?" His voice is dark and soft in her ear, a contrast to the increasingly insistent movement of his fingers, doing wicked things to her that she prays no one can see. Even though it's long past midnight, they're still standing outside the flat, after all. She remembers the key ring in her hand and knows they can't stay out here – especially not if they're going to take this as far as she wants to – but what he's doing to her is so damn _good_ that she doesn't want to do anything that might make him stop.

"Y-You never said…" she manages.

"Don't ever mistake my silence for a sign that I don't want you, Rose," he interrupts. "I have wanted you across time and space and universes and now… I'm tired of waiting. I'd say it's a fair bet to assume that you are too."

She can hear the smirk in his voice as his fingers slide slickly between her thighs, finding all the evidence he needs that _yes_ she is more than ready for this, for him. She bites her lip to keep from moaning her agreement, but a sound squeaks out anyways, a needy little whimper that doesn't escape his notice. He gives a knowing little chuckle and uses the hand that isn't buried between her legs to pluck the keys from her fingers.

"Were you ever going to get that door open? Because as lovely as _this _is_,_" he punctuates his words with a determined swipe of his devastatingly long finger, "I'd really, really, _really _love to fuck you right now."

"Yes, please," she gasps, reeling as he withdraws his fingers completely. In the seconds it takes her to catch her breath, he's managed to fit the key inside the lock and twist it around enough to get them inside.

They stumble over the threshold, quite literally tripping each other. They're barely around the door before he's pushing it closed and backing her into it. He's so much more solid, now that they're face to face, with his hips pinning her to the door, his hands cupping her cheeks as he angles her mouth to his, his fingers tangling in her hair. She likes it better this way, though, now that she can touch him in return, wind her arms around his skinny bones and over his bum, tugging him closer.

His kisses grow desperate – lips and teeth and tongue moving against hers as if he's afraid she's going to disappear on him or change her mind. She can taste the alcohol on his tongue and remembers for a moment how they got here in the first place. She slows her lips against his and pulls away gently with a hand on his cheek.

"Hey. Hey," she whispers, "Not going anywhere, okay? I'm right here."

Something in his eyes softens. "I do love you, Rose Tyler. I meant that when I said it earlier."

"I know. I've always meant it, too."

And just like that, they are back in it. He murmurs her name into her skin as he kisses down her cheek and jaw and throat to the join of her neck and shoulder, nipping at the sensitive flesh there before soothing it with his tongue. She slides her hands up to curl them into his thick, wild hair, an appreciative moan unraveling from her throat. It's complete and utter madness, this, but it feels right, so she doesn't question it. After all - he is the Doctor, she is Rose Tyler, and they were always meant for this. The real madness is that they waited so long.

He takes the hint when she arches her hips into his, grinding against the resistance she finds there to remind him once more of the frantic need he had expressed just moments ago. He leaves a lingering kiss at her throat and lifts his head to meet her gaze. "No more waiting?"

"No more waiting," she asserts, slipping her hand between them to palm him trough his trousers. He sucks in air through his teeth with a hiss and she smiles wolfishly, gaining a victory at last. "Just fuck me."

He grins just as darkly. "Thought you'd never ask."


End file.
